


Where The Tide Follows

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Relationship Problems, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26419120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Steven knows he isn't the best lover, but why did Izzy feel so alone?
Relationships: Steven Adler/Izzy Stradlin
Kudos: 17





	Where The Tide Follows

Steven sat from afar, his legs bunched up beneath himself, watching in remarkable silence. 

It was easy to become enthralled by Izzy, whose fingers danced over the chords with a skillful elegance that seemed almost natural. Steven couldn't tear his eyes away, and really doing want to, anyways. There was nowhere to be, nothing to do, and in the relative silence and peace that had taken over the recording studio. 

When things got tough, it was easy to forget what mattered most. 

Tempers boiled over, and sadness could turn into rage. Steven was horrible aware that he wasn't the best lover, and that his addictions could sometimes get the best of him, but at the end of each long day, there was love, and there was a complete and utter adoration for the man that sat just a few feet away. 

Oh, how Steven loved Izzy, more than life itself. 

Maybe he didn't say it through his actions too much, but it was there, like a permanent fire within his chest. 

Izzy was a mysterious beauty, a silent spectre in the night. His dark hair obscured those gorgeous hazel eyes that always seemed to know the secrets of the world. He was quiet and perceptive, talented in whatever he tried. 

Steven adored him, and though troubled waters often rocked the boat, in the end, that didn't matter. 

"Why are you watching me?" Izzy asked quietly, his fingers stilling in the air mid-stroke. His head was tilted down toward his guitar, but there was a distinct tensing of his muscles that suggested he had maybe felt the intent gaze. 

The soft question jolted Steven from the trance he had fallen into. He struggled with himself for a moment, debating with himself in a strenuous battle about what he should respond with. "Because you're beautiful." Steven said, his words falling into the silence of the room to be swallowed up by mellow anger. 

Izzy went back to his guitar. "Okay." He said. 

A sigh escaped Steven's lips as he sat there, unseen, but his fingers aching to touch Izzy, to remove his clothing with a gentle caress and be taken away into a safe place where none of this existed, just them.

No drugs or alcohol, no fighting or arguing, just the comfort of being right next to each other. 

Steven stood up, his legs tingling slightly as the blood flow returned to them. Nonetheless, he crossed the room in a few simple strides, and came to a stop behind the chair that Izzy was sitting on. Steven reached out, shyly, like this was his first rodeo. 

It wasn't, but there was something about Izzy that made Steven weak in the knees. 

"You know that I love you, right?" Steven asked, his voice merely a whisper as his arm snaked around Izzy's shoulder and wrapped around his chest so that Steven could hug him from behind. "More than the stars, or moon, or sun." It sounded strangely like a promise, a to-be. 

Izzy winced, like the words pained him. "That's nice." He said, his voice shaking slightly. Steven frowned and kissed his cheek, so soft that it was like he hadn't been there at all. 

Their lives were complicated, complex on levels beyond reason. Steven didn't know how it'd went so bad so fast, but he was determined to fix it. 

He was going to do something he hadn't done in a long time- he was going to try. 

"You think I love the drugs more than you." Steven said. 

Izzy remained neutral. "Yes." He replied, one simple little word. "Isn't that the truth?" 

No, it wasn't. The truth was that the drugs meant nothing, they just existed because they made Steven feel good, that was all. Why couldn't Izzy see that? If the drugs made Steven happy, then what was the harm? 

But that wasn't the point. Steven walked around the chair so that he could carefully grab the guitar and set it back on the stand in the corner of the room. It obviously wasn't what Izzy wanted, but he didn't say anything, just sat there. 

Steven crouched down, hoping that maybe being on the same level of his lover would help the situation, if only a little bit. Regardless of what people said about him, Steven wasn't dumb, nor was he clueless about what was going on, or about how to fix something that had been broken. 

"The drugs mean nothing." Steven said, sincere and honest. It wasn't enough, and so Steven grabbed Izzy's hand, frowning at how cold it was. 

Izzy let out a semi-hysterical laugh, one that was so unlike his usual demeanor that Steven was momentarily startled. Izzy slapped his hand over his mouth, equally frightened by the sudden noise that was radically different from how he usually acted. It made this whole mess a lot more worrying, that was for sure. 

"Yes, they do." Izzy whispered after a moment that passed by so slowly, it almost seemed purposeful. "I have no doubt, Steven, that if you had to choose, if a gunman walked straight into this room right at this moment and said that you had to either give up drugs completely or he would shoot me dead on the spot, that you would watch me die before you had to stop." It was possibly the longest sentence that Izzy had ever said willingly, and it was also the worst. 

Steven felt like he'd just been shot through the heart. 

He opened his mouth, shut it, tried to calm down his racing thoughts because he suddenly felt like he was dying. Steven couldn't believe that those words had been said, couldn't believe that Izzy seemed so sure in his stance. 

With a gasp, Steven buried his face in his hands. Hot tears blurred his vision, and god, it hurt. His heart felt like it'd jumped into his throat and was choking him. 

"That's not- no, please, _Iz."_ Steven didn't know what to say, what to do, if he was supposed to dissuade those assurances or just walk out completely because this was all falling apart, like a shirt being unraveled by a single string. "Don't believe that. It's not true, that's not true, please don't-" 

Izzy looked flustered. "What am I supposed to believe?" He hissed through gritted teeth. "That you love me? That I mean something to you besides sex whenever the girls at the bar don't want to come home with you? What?" He said, but the anger was gone, if it had been there in the first place at all. 

Now, there was hopeless sorrow. 

Steven was, for once, at a loss for words. He didn't know what to do to make any of this better. 

What was happening to them? 

"Babe, they don't matter. Only you. There's only room in my heart for _you."_ Steven stressed the word out, trying to fix the damage that'd been done, but it only seemed to make Izzy more distressed than he was before. "If I had to choose, you're my only choice. Baby, why would you-" 

Izzy sucked in a breathe. "I'm gonna be sick." He muttered, shoving past Steven so he could make a run for the bathrooms. Steven fell backwards with a grunt, surprised by the sudden change. 

He stood up, legs shaky from having been crouching uncomfortably for the past several minutes, and went to stand outside the bathroom door, giving Izzy a moment of privacy. After a few minutes, Steven knocked on the door, lightly but loud enough to be heard. "Iz?" He said. "Are you okay?" 

Silence was his answer. 

Steven didn't know what to do. He knew that Izzy valued being alone above anything else, but he was extremely worried, and so he knocked once more to announce himself before opening the door. 

Izzy was crouched in front of the toilet, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Steven fell into his knees beside Izzy, taking the other man in his arms, trying to comfort, trying to find assurance in the deepest corners. 

"What's wrong?" Steven asked. For once, there was no humor in his voice, no happiness, just a pure, full realization that everything was going wrong. The world was tilted sideways, and everything was going off-course. 

"You..." Izzy paused, his eyes squeezed shut. Strands of his hair were sticking to his forehead, and it was then that Steven noticed that Izzy looked sick. It was hard to notice because Izzy was so pale usually, but now that they were so close, it was a wonder that Steven hadn't noticed sooner.

Izzy was sweating profusely. His eyes were bloodshot, and, in a sudden change from earlier, he now felt like a furnace. 

Steven smoothed away some of his hair. "Are you sick, baby?" He asked. 

It was a cold realization, one that made Steven's guilt worsen significantly. He kissed the top of Izzy's head tenderly, wondering how many other things that slipped by his notice when he was high. 

He knew that it was a problem, but he hadn't realized that it was _that_ bad. 

Izzy sucked in a breathe as he buried his face against Steven's neck, shivering despite the heat that seemed to be exuding from him. "Nice of you to notice." He mumbled weakly. 

The floor of the bathroom was beginning to get uncomfortable, and it was cold, too. Steven felt the guilt increase when he felt that scratching at the back of his mind, a persistent ache that seemed to seep from his very skull. 

He needed a fix. 

But that could wait, no matter how bad it got. 

"Let's go, hmm?" Steven said, careful to keep his voice low. "You can go and lay in bed, try to rest up." His hand raised up to stroke Izzy's hair, already shifting so they could stand up. Izzy mumbled something that was lost to the noise going on outside, little more than a whisper as he stood up, too. 

The walk upstairs was longer than it should've been, but they got there eventually. 

Steven helped Izzy into bed, feeling a strange sadness as Izzy lay there, the blankets bunched up around him.

"How are you feeling?" Steven asked, sitting down beside the other man so he could adjust the blankets. Izzy didn't like being fussed over but could deal with it for now. "Like a sick dog." Izzy replied, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. 

It took Steven a minute to remember what he was supposed to do in event of somebody being sick. The group never really got sick, all things considered. The worst that happened was a fight or two every few weeks, and it was very rarely anything serious. 

He went into the bathroom and rooted around in the medicine cabinet for...well, anything. But in the moment of solitude, the walls seemed to be closing in. 

Izzy was a difficult person to be around sometimes, but Steven had never realized that he'd, subconsciously, maybe, pushed the other man away. 

The thought made it worse, because Steven had never meant to hurt anybody with his addictions. 

But nobody had ever said he was smart. 

Steven retrieved the medicine and went back into the room, starting to feel nauseous, but it wasn't from any sort of sickness. Rather, it was a horrible feeling of combined guilt and wonder, of why he hasn't realized this sooner, and why Izzy had felt alienated, so alone, that he couldn't say these things, confess what was wrong. 

But Steven was determined to fix it, undo the damage. And so he sat down beside Izzy's legs, hand gentle as it caressed the slender arm of the man he loved so, so much. "Hey." Steven said with a small smile, holding up the medicine bottle like an offering. 

Izzy blinked blearily. "You probably shouldn't be so close." He mumbled. "I don't want you getting sick, too." 

Steven chuckled. "Why, because I'm a big baby when I'm sick?" 

"Mhmm." Izzy nodded, sitting up and resting against the headboard. 

The atmosphere became a little lighter. It was easy to remember the times before, when everything was great, when the drugs were easy to manage. Now, they were older and scarred. The shadows were closing in. 

Without complaint, Izzy took the medicine, wincing as he swallowed it before laying back down. "Thanks." He said gratefully, sinking down into the blanket. 

Steven set aside the medicine, and stood up. He walked around the bed and carefully slipped under the blankets so he curl close behind Iz despite the initial discomfort over how hot it was. It felt like an actual sauna, but Steven persisted in spite of this. 

He would do anythint. 

"What are you doing?" Izzy said, half-rolling over so he was on his back. 

"Cuddling." Steven replied, grinning cheerfully. "I don't care if I get sick. Then we can be sick together!" 

Izzy rolled his eyes. "You're such a dork." He said, but there was a fondness in his tone that offset the irritation. "Look, I'm sorry if what I said earlier hurt you, but-" 

Steven cut him off. "Its your truth." He said, solemn for once, trying to be serious if only to show Izzy that his feelings did matter, and they'd never stopped. "You feel that way. I know that I would give up anything, hell, _die_ before you get hurt, but I don't think I've done a good job of showing it." He smiled a little sheepishly.

Izzy shrugged. "I haven't been very good to you, either." He replied.

"But you _have."_ Steven said. "You've been my rock. You're always there to pick me up, and to tell me to not give up." He leaned down and risked a kiss to Izzy's cheek. "I love you, so much." He whispered.

Izzy smiled, even if it was only the smallest twitch to the corners of his lips. "I love you too, Stevie." 

Not everything was okay. In due time, they'd need to talk, and maybe that talk would hurt. Steven would get himself high, and Izzy would watch with worry. They would probably fight, tears would be shed, and then, later that night, they would curl up in each other's arms and pray for a better day. 

But for now, they were content where they were, because in the end, the only place that either of them felt truly comfortable in, was right beside each other. 

And that? Well, it said a lot.


End file.
